Burnout
by midwestern-duchess
Summary: "Do not go gentle into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light." -Dylan Thomas


Consciousness returns to Yang like a sucker punch.

A sharp gasp pierces the quietness of the room, and she jerks herself upright, looking around in panic, violet eyes overbright and wild. Her chest heaves as she gulps in mouthfuls of air, frantically trying to make sense of where she is.

She's in a bed. A hospital bed, if the strong stench of disinfect is to be believed. She looks down at herself, searching for the gaping wound that would explain her presence here. She feels no pain, but that only makes her more uneasy. Why is she here? Where is her team? What had happened?

She can only recall fragments—a gleaming sword, Beacon in flames, a _scream—_

She shudders at the disjointed memories, drawing a shaky breath. She feels antsy—on edge and uneasy.

Swallowing back the anxious emotions, she decides she's not going to get any answers sitting in bed. She lifts her arm to throw back the covers, but before she can, a gleam from the bedside table catches her attention. Frowning, she glances over, and her gaze falls upon Ember Celica, glinting like a flame in the sunlight filtering in from a gap in the curtains.

But…her eyebrows slant down in confusion. Why is there only one? Where's its twin? And when had she taken it off?

She lifts her left arm—still secured in her golden gauntlet—and turns to the right.

Yang's world goes sideways.

At first, she doesn't know what to think. She knows her arm has to be there—because it's _always_ been there. An _arm_ isn't the kind of thing you just _misplace_ or _lose_ so _where the_ _ **hell**_ _—?_

It all comes rushing back.

Blake. The man in the mask. What had she called him? _Adam._ Blake's scream. Her blood glistening on his sword. Then everything was on _fire._

She stares at the stump, eyes wide and unfocused as the realization crashes into her. She didn't stand a chance. Maybe her angle was wrong, maybe she misjudged her jump, maybe he'd seen her coming. A thousand possibilities tumble through her mind and she tries to recall the event in perfect clarity, but her own mind shuts her out. She can only envision a hazy, sluggish version of the memory. A simple, unsophisticated recollection.

Blake's scream. Yang's anger. Adam's sword.

She can't even remember the pain. She just remembers heat—the hottest she's ever been, on par with the _sun_ —and then nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Anxiety uncurls itself in the pit of her stomach like some great snake, rearing its ugly head and baring its fangs as sense and reason abandon her. What good is she? She's a _brawler._ She can't even wield one of her weapons now! Her eyes dart back to Ember Celica, resting peacefully on the bedside table. She suddenly envisions it old and dusty and unused and practically gags on her fear.

She'll have to leave the team. She'll have to leave the _school._ She puts her hands to her face, trying to reign herself in, pull herself down, but the lack of a her right hand is like a slap in the face, and all her panic and fear and worry and terror finally manifest in a sound as she chokes out a strangled sob, vision blurring with tears.

A commotion outside drags her from her downward spiral, and she starts in the bed when she hears what sounds suspiciously like a body being slammed against a wall.

"Stand aside, Qrow!" the voice snarls, full of nothing but fury.

"You're only gonna make things worse!" Qrow returns fiercely. "She's too disoriented, you aren't going to help!"

"You should have learned this lesson by now," the voice growls, and Yang feels like she should know who it is but her mind is such a mess of tangled thoughts—

"Do not stand in the way of a father and his children!"

The door is flung open with more force than needed, sending it crashing against the opposing wall. There, in the doorway, stands Taiyang Xiao Long. Primed for a fight and with fire in his eyes.

 _"_ _Dad,"_ Yang gasps.

Taiyang immediately turns his gaze upon her, and in three long strides has knelt beside her bed.

"Oh, Yang, my sweet little girl," he whispers, cupping the back of her head with his warm, calloused hand to pull her close. She buries her face in the crook of his neck as he holds her, murmuring her name over and over again. Her shoulders shake with another sob, and his other hand comes up to rub circles on her back.

"Easy, sweetheart," he soothes. "Easy, honey, I've got you. I'm here now, okay?"

"Dad," she chokes out. "Dad, my—my—"

"Shhh…." he hushes her gently. "Deep breathes, sweetheart. Don't think about that now, okay? Just try to relax."

"Fat chance of that happening."

Yang lifts her head and feels her dad do the same. Qrow skulks into the room, eyeing the two Xiao Longs with a drawn expression. His eyes shine with anger, but they soften as he gazes at Yang. "How you feeling, kiddo?"

She offers a weak shrug, still leaning into Taiyang's protective hold.

"What happened?" she asks. She knows very well what happens, of course, but she wants to hear it from someone else. Then she can't deny it to herself.

Qrow lets out a deep breath, crossing over to the window. "What all do you remember?" he asks quietly, brushing aside the curtains to peer outside.

"Vale was attacked," Yang murmurs, staring down at her covers as she recalls. "Beacon burned."

Taiayng nods. "You went looking for Blake," he reminds her. "And you were attacked."

She nods. "The man in the mask…" she whispers.

"It was a member of the White Fang," Qrow explains dully.

"The leader, if that makes any difference," Taiyang offers, knowing without a doubt it will.

Yang nods slowly. "His name was Adam," she says quietly. "He stabbed Blake."

"Your partner's being treated," Qrow tells her. "As is the rest of your team. Everyone's gonna be fine." His blood-red eyes settle on the abrupt end of her right arm. "Your injuries were the worst."

This catches her attention. "Who all got hurt?" she demands. "Weiss and Ruby? Where are they? Are they okay?" She pushes back from Taiyang to haul herself out of bed, but her father holds her down.

"Easy there, dynamite," her father soothes, pushing her back into the bed. "Your uncle's right—everyone's fine."

Suspicion narrows her eyes. "Then why can't I see them?" she demands.

"Because _you_ aren't fine," Qrow retorts, dropping the curtains back into place to frown at her.

She scowls at him from across the room. "It's not like I'm contagious," she snaps.

"No, but right now you're weak and you're vulnerable," Qrow responds sharply. "And you ain't moving an inch until we say, so get comfortable."

Yang glares, but Taiyang smooths down her wild hair with a warm hand. "Just take it easy," he says. "Ruby and the others will come see you first thing tomorrow, okay? I promise."

She turns to look at him, like she's assessing his honesty, and he smiles at her. "Hunter's honor," he promises, leaning forward to press a warm kiss into her hair. "Just try to get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," she pouts, going to cross her arms across her chest but seeming to remember her latest injury at the last minute. She looks back at her right arm, swallowing hard.

"What if I pass the time by telling stories about your dad being an idiot?" Qrow offers, arching an eyebrow. "That'll take up plenty of time."

Taiyang glares, but Yang looks absolutely delighted at the prospect, so he resigns himself to the ordeal.

"Qrow wasn't a perfect Hunter either," Taiyang tries.

"No, but _I_ didn't use _Summer Rose_ as a _projectile."_

"Oh that was _one time!"_

Yang tries to stay awake—she really does—but eventually sleep claims her.

-0-

Taiyang knows it's her. He always knows.

"Leave." The word is pure fire. He doesn't turn to look at her. He knows himself well enough—if he sees her face, a fight will ensue. It's a simple fact of their relationship.

"Believe me, I have no desire to be here," she replies lowly. She tries to peer around his broad frame to get a look at the girl in the bed, but he shifts, blocking her gaze. Her eyes narrow. "Although I was unaware you had a monopoly on mourning."

His hands curl into fists, but he keeps himself rooted to the spot.

"She isn't dead," he says curtly. Anger simmers beneath his tone.

She scoffs at this. "Of course she isn't," she replies, annoyed. "She possesses incredible resilience, and a tenacious spirit. Her bloodlines favor her."

Taiyang gives a cold chuckle in the darkness Night has fallen, and the entire hospital is asleep. "Right," he mutters darkly. "Because that Branwen blood has done her so many favors."

She clicks her tongue, disliking his tone. "Do not bring Qrow into this," she rebukes him. "He has his own role to play."

"I'm not talking about Qrow," he retorts. "At least _he_ was there for her."

Her eyes narrow at his back, and for a wild moment she considers drawing her blade, but banishes the thought just as quickly. She needs to compose herself. Taiyang always did have a way of dragging the most volatile emotions out of her.

"I did not come here to engage in a petty disagreement," she informs him, her words clipped and sharpened. "I came here to extend a warning."

"Go to hell." His words are like struck steel.

She rolls her eyes. "This is not the time for triviality or old wounds," she insists. "This is about our daughter."

At this, he turns to face her, stepping away from the bed to place himself directly in her personal space—exactly the way he knows she hates.

"Raven," he greets, eyes like lilac fire.

"Taiyang," she answers, tone guarded and restrained.

She shifts, but forces herself to stand her ground. Taiyang doesn't have much of an edge in height, but his presence and his formidability fills the small room until she feels like she's suffocating in it. He's a large man, and possesses and even larger aura.

He is a solar flare—but she is a lunar eclipse.

Her lips twitch. She is not to be trifled with.

"If you are trying to intimidate me, you will be sorely disappointed," she tells him, her tone unkind. "I have just as much of a right to be here as you do."

He arches a brow at this. "A right, yes. But a reason?" He folds his arms. "There are lots of things Yang wants right now, and I have a feeling you didn't make her top ten list."

Raven's lips pull back in a snarl. This was always his way. Once the initial anger and shock wore off, he'd cover his hurt with biting sarcasm. It annoyed her then and it annoys her now.

"Yes, well, we can't always get what we want, now can we?" she hisses at him. "Sometimes we have to accept what we need—our own thoughts or feelings be damned."

They stare at each other, eyes clashing in the darkness of the room, each wondering what they're really discussing.

"What's the warning?" he finally asks.

She lifts her chin defiantly. "Let me see her," she counters.

Irritation flickers across Taiyang's face, but he obliges, taking a step to the side. With his hulking frame out of the way, Raven gets her first clear look at her daughter.

Yang lies still in the bed, looking paler than death in the moonlight. Raven frowns, suddenly worried.

"I've seen corpses that look better than her," she remarks, more to herself than anything.

Taiyang gives a snort of dark amusement. "I'll be sure to pass that along," he mutters, ignoring the fierce look Raven flings at him. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

Rolling her eyes at his— _everything—_ Raven bends over the bed, reaching out to gently brush golden curls away from her brow. Her face is pinched with worry, even in sleep, and Raven pities her.

"If you wake her, I'm throwing you out," Taiyang tells her gruffly.

"You can try," she bites back, unperturbed. Her crimson gaze skirts over her daughter's face.

"What's with the mask?" Taiyang asks, nodding to the disguise that hangs from her belt.

Raven turns to look him full in the face. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you," she says, quite seriously.

"Hilarious," Taiyang drawls back, unamused. "Really. I'm glad you're making jokes like that at your daughter's deathbed. Way to set the right mood."

Raven rolls her eyes at his dramatics. "It is not her _deathbed,"_ she corrects him, lowering her gaze back to the brawler's prone form. "And it was _not_ a joke."

Silence envelopes the small room—a disjointed, disconnected family all brokenly coexisting in the same space for the first time in years.

After a moment, Raven gingerly pulls back the blanket just enough to catch a glimpse of her daughter's missing limb, and her face contorts with anger.

"This would not have happened if she had taken up my style of fighting," she mutters, eyeing Ember Celica with distaste.

Taiyang rolls his eyes. "Yes, _that's_ the problem," he replies, derision leaking from his words. "Her fighting style. Gee, if only Yang had picked up a sword. Then _none_ of this—"

"Enough," Raven cuts him off, turning to shoot him a look of poison. "Of course that isn't the only problem, I'm not an _idiot."_

His gaze darkens with emotions Raven doesn't want to see, and she stubbornly looks away. _Do not give in,_ she chants to herself. _Keep yourself under control._

"Yang needed you," he accuses her lowly.

Her eyes flip wide, then narrow to slits. Her poise abandons her as she spins on him.

"You cannot possibly blame this on me," she hisses.

"Don't act like you didn't know about the White Fang's plans!" he retorts loudly, pushing himself away from the wall.

"Do not speak about things you don't understand!" she counters, and the venom in her voice bites with a vengeance.

An uneasiness fills the room, and tension hangs in the air like a heavy heat.

"I can see Qrow tried his hand at healing," she remarks, turning back to Yang in a poorly-disguised attempt to diffuse the situation. Her eyes rake over the bandages that cocoon Yang's right arm critically. "He never was very good at it."

"The only decent healer out of all of us was Summer," Taiyang reminds her, as if she could have forgotten. "And he could have done a damn sight worse."

"Qrow will do what he has always done," Raven replies dismissively. "Ruin things."

"Better to try and fail than take the coward's way out," Taiyang counters, and Raven's expression darkens.

"I am not a coward," she hisses. "Don't you _ever—"_

"You left." Taiyang's voice is absolute.

She bares her teeth. "You don't _understand—"_

"Of course I don't!" he cuts her off in a savage snarl. "You never bothered _explaining!"_

 _"_ _Let me_ _ **speak!"**_ she nearly shouts, and both Hunters freezes as Yang whimpers something in her sleep. She tosses back and forth for a moment, before releasing a shuddering sigh, dragged down into her fitful sleep once more.

"She doesn't need me," Raven argues in a whisper. "She never has, and she never will." She looks up at Taiyang, a flicker of pain in her eyes. "She's gotten by this long without me."

"She's only seventeen, Raven," Taiyang reasons. "That's not that old. I don't care if she's thirty! You're never too old for family."

Raven studies her old lover in the moonlight. "Would you even let me?" she asks softly. "After all the pain. You would let me come back into her life? Despite everything I've done to you?"

"It was never about me," he tells her gently. "If having you around would make Yang even a _little_ bit happier, I would do everything I could to get you back." He raises his eyebrows. "I've actually been trying to do that for a while now. I know it's hard to tell, since I've had zero success, but the thought _was_ there."

Raven bites her lip, throwing her gaze back at her daughter.

"Don't come back because you feel like you have to," Taiyang says, watching her closely. "Don't even come back because it's the right thing to do. Come back because you _want_ to."

She steps back, shaking her head. "I can't," she whispers. "Not right now."

He nods. He hadn't expected to persuade her. But they hadn't drawn their weapons, so he chalks the meeting up to a success.

"I have to go," she murmurs. "I don't want her to see me."

Taiyang nods, but doesn't bother asking. He loves his children fiercely—nothing in the world could take them from him. He'll never understand Raven's aversion.

"Hey," he reaches out to touch her elbow. She looks up at him, eyes wide with shock, and he quickly pulls his hand back.

"Just…be careful," he says quietly.

Her gaze softens. "Of course," she answers, donning her mask.

"And Raven?"

She pauses, glancing back at him questioningly.

Taiyang stares down at his daughter's sleeping form. "If you find out who did this, give 'em a hello from me." His words burn.

A serpentine smile splits Raven's lips behind her mask.

"It would be my genuine pleasure."

* * *

Two pieces in one day. Look at me fucking _go._

Anyway, have some angst. Raven fascinates me as a character and I'm lowkey pissed we've seen like next to nothing of her but whatever.

I realize a lot of this is my own interpretation, so please don't think I'm trying to pass my own thoughts and theories off as canon.

Have a lovely day because I'm gonna go sleep for like six years.


End file.
